


Mine

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [11]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Ah Feilong I knew you had it in you, Anal Sex, Dont expect me to apologize, First Time, Fucking diva show-off, It's all Feilong's fault anyway, Just really nothing but one long-ass sex scene, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Slash, Well ok he's never been with another guy anyway, Yaoi, Yoh is a virgin can you stand it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay honestly, this chapter is really nothing more than one very long and drawn-out fuck scene. I have no real excuse except that once I decided that inside my own head canon, Yoh has never been with another man before, I just had to go to great lengths to make it a big deal. After everything he's gone to to prove himself to Feilong, I think he deserves it!</p><p>Really, for once, unless candlelight or sangria or neckties or slow buildup and tons of foreplay and consensual (VERY VERY consensual sex) are triggers for you, I can't think of a lot of warnings for this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to expand on the occasional disclaimer I have made about these characters!
> 
> One - I am not and do not speak Japanese. I know the words I use are probably totally wrong and I know the way I use them is probably wrong too. I hope you'll overlook it. I'm American, and as such, I know I have Americanized the speech, thought and behavior patterns of these characters to some degree. I do not do it to be disloyal to the author's work, because I think she is amazing. 
> 
> Two - I also realize I'm extrapolating a relationship that only has hints of its potential in the real Finder manga. My series is something of an AU while I also try to keep the feel of who these people are, throughout the course of what I'm writing, working through a lot of the issues we see in the series. Some of you may disagree with my portrayal of Feilong. He is who he is in my stories because I've personally known someone like him we was a complete bastard because he was terribly unhappy and ashamed of his desires and of being perceived as weak. It literally took one crazy intense scene to make him face his own denial and he became a new person, able to finally be who he'd wanted to be all along. My Feilong is like that. I think there are some clues in the manga that justify my portrayal of him as a sub, but I'll state again that I DO know I'm writing outside the box, so consider this an AU please, and perhaps that will help.
> 
> Three - If I am slaughtering Japanese or Chinese traditions, mentalities, behaviors etc, this is not done intentionally. I'm just writing a porny fanfic, and I really don't want to turn it into a research paper so that it becomes no fun for me to write anymore. I mean no disrespect to any asian readers who might be offended if I accidentally write something taboo or rude etc about your culture, which I find to be fascinating and beautiful!

Just because Asami has been overwhelmed by lust, or the need to mete out punishment or whatever had been his motivation (he would say he need not justify himself and he would be right), and made a nearly 6000 mile booty call doesn’t mean his business can simply run itself. Not when several important meetings have already been reshuffled for this brief interlude. He takes the rest of the next day with plans to leave around 9, and they lounge around like walruses on a beach the entire time, napping and having mind-blowing sex and eating the mouth-watering treats Yoh comes up with for them. It is as though the day is a step out of time, a thing none of them ever do, and as such they completely set aside even things about themselves that are usually present.

Akihito doesn’t fight with anybody about what he wants or likes or wishes to do to somebody else. When he blushingly tells Feilong he wants to try rimming him like he’d done to Aki that one time (he’s not ready to do it for Asami yet, he wants to make sure he can handle doing it and not feel stupid first), Feilong is more than happy to let him. He spends an inordinate amount of time bathing and cleaning himself to set the boy at ease, and rather than act horrified and embarrassed and get prickly about it, Aki is adorable and anxious and wants to be given pointers. Feilong’s able to give about two small bits of advice, but after the tentative little kitten tongue has tickled and poked and stroked and swirled at his hole for oh, about ONE MINUTE while he lays passively on his stomach with his hands holding himself open for Akihito’s convenience, he’s groaning too much to say anything. Akihito notices this and finds it amusing, each time Feilong takes a breath and opens his mouth to speak, to flicker his tongue on Feifei’s pucker and make him gasp and whimper again. Feilong stands it as long as he can, until his hole is soft and wet and ACHING to have more than a tongue assaulting it, then declares Akihito a natural expert, throws him on his back, and impales himself on the boy’s rampant erection as a reward for his prowess.

Asami throws impatience and his (admittedly sexy) bullying ways out the window and is indulgent and funny and gentle with everyone. When Aki starts to act a bit of a brat (on purpose and for fun, not because he’s resorting to being prickly again) Asami pulls him into his lap and kisses him for ages. When he stops and asks Aki what’s wrong, Aki hides his face and tells Asami with incredible honesty that he wants a spanking. Asami smiles and turns Akihito over his knee and pulls down his pants. He strokes and fondles the naked bottom over his lap for ages, then spanks Akihito slowly and carefully, building a slow easy heat in both their bodies. Feilong is enraptured by them. Aki squirms and moans and breathlessly begs for more. Asami chuckles and pushes Aki’s legs apart and strokes his balls and inner thighs and crease and covers his pink-flushed backside with a few more easy slaps. At last Aki is begging to be taken instead of beaten and Asami sets him on his lap, straddling him. With a wicked grin, he wraps his arms around Takaba’s waist, holding him in place, and grabs his ass cheeks in both hands. Pulling his ass open wide, Asami purrs to Feilong to bring the lube and make Aki ready to be fucked. Feilong nearly trips over himself fetching the tube from the bedroom (they’re in the living room as this is happening).

“Thank you, Fei-kun,” he says with a devilish smile. “Now I want you to take your time. As long as you want, and a lot longer than he wants. Hours, if you feel like it. I’m in no hurry.”

Akihito is writhing and begging and sweating and almost crying with need by the time Feilong is satisfied. When Asami turns him around so his back is to his lover and thrusts slowly up into him, Akihito’s face is alight with wonder. There isn’t even a hint of a burn when the thick cock glides up his loose, slick, hot little hole. Asami asks how he’d like to thank Feilong, and Akihito blushes a little, looking up at Feilong from under his shaggy bangs.

“Will you come down my throat when he comes in my ass, Ani?” he asks shyly. And who the hell could say no to a request such as that? So Feilong does.

Feilong can’t do anything but follow their examples, and he lets himself forget guilt and fear and his defenses and throws himself shamelessly at Asami’s feet (literally and figuratively). He’d like to be able to say he does so without ulterior motive, but he’d be lying. The ulterior motives, however, have nothing to do with Akihito and Asami, but rather are to do with Yoh. He is titillated and thrilled by what he thinks he may be able to have with Yoh, but what he’s found with Asami and Aki is nothing he’s willing to risk, or even think about giving up, and if it really is going to turn out to be a problem for Yoh, he’d rather know about it now, not in six months or a year when he has allowed Yoh to matter to him. He submits himself utterly to Asami, keeping his head lower than his sensei’s at all times, getting up to take the serving tray from Yoh when he brings it and serving Asami himself before allowing Yoh to serve Feilong. He sits on the floor with his head on Asami’s knee while they all (Yoh included) watch the Wizard of Oz because Yoh and Asami have never seen it, and watches Yoh’s reactions out of the corner of his eye. He gains two things from the experience. One is the conviction that Yoh speaks the truth when he says that it doesn’t bother him that Feilong subs for Asami. He never so much as blinks or flinches when he sees his own sensei call and treat another man as such too. He doesn’t try to prevent Feilong from pouring drinks and offering food to Asami when Yoh brings it and shows his intentions to serve everyone their meals. He merely bows his head calmly and steps out of Feilong’s way. He treats Asami with respect and jokes easily with Akihito but shows deference to no one but Feilong, even when Feilong is sitting on the floor with Asami’s fingers in his hair. He also figures out exactly what fantasy he wants fulfilled, if Aki remembers and manages to browbeat Asami into going along with it, but he keeps that to himself.

“You’re not trying to torment Yoh, are you Fei-kun?” asks Asami curiously after the second time they’re interacted in this way.

“No,” says Feilong solemnly, and explains what he IS up to.

“Huh,” says Asami thoughtfully. “That’s pretty wise, beautiful one. If he’s telling the truth about it not being a problem for him…and I have to tell you, I believe him, Feilong. He’s not faking how easily he’s taking this in stride. If it is true, then you’re going to be a wonderful Master for him.”

Feilong smiles and thinks for the first time about what’s going to happen when Asami and Aki leave and has the smile remain on his face. The separation will not be long, for he has already set up half a dozen meetings in Tokyo and Kyoto in the coming weeks. If he examines his current motives for his recent diversification into Japan, he has to acknowledge that he’s building an exit strategy. He isn’t ready – quite – to give up on what he has thought of as his heritage and birthright for so many years, what he’s struggled and bled to build from the ashes, but in the back of his mind he also knows that he may not have a choice. Someone is eventually going to find out that Liu Feilong is gay (he’ll be able to protest that he’s pansexual all day long and it won’t matter to them) and his relatives will hire someone to kill him. Not one of them will have the guts to come for him themselves, all weaker than he in body and in mind, none powerful enough to restore Baishe to its glory after his father and brother’s deaths, not until Feilong had gotten out of prison to do it himself. But they would not think of that. They would only think of shame and dishonor, and they would want him erased. Thoughts like these make his fingers itch for the pretty lacquered box with its neat compartments of colored tablets and capsules, but he hasn’t turned there for comfort in some time now, and he’s starting to feel like maybe he’ll think about getting rid of it. All of his new ventures in Japan are (mostly) legitimate. His glance strays to strong shoulders and a lean, straight back, trim waist and surprisingly tempting backside in a black suit. To shaggy bangs and eyes like oolong tea on a pleasant early morning and to hands with scarred knuckles and a mouth that tastes like salted caramel (and who knew Yoh had such a weakness but GODS when Feilong had tasted the flavor in his mouth he had wanted to eat Yoh the fuck UP right there). Asami and Akihito both notice him eyeing his employee as the evening and their departure draws nearer. The goodbyes are not dragged out, because Asami really must get back to the things he’s neglected, as must Feilong (eventually) and Asami smiles knowingly as Kirishima puts overnight bags into the car Feilong had arranged to have waiting for them at the airstrip. It is a non-descript greenish Honda sedan. Practically an insult to a man like Asami, but necessary.

Akihito hugs Yoh with surprising warmth. Well, it’s surprising to Yoh, as is evidenced by his wide eyes and somewhat tense shoulders. People you don’t know very well hugging you often conceal a blade in Yoh’s line of work. He relaxes and hugs Aki back, but only a little.

“I’m so glad, Yoh,” whispers the photographer fiercely. “I knew he’d forgive you. You helped me, as much as you could, and I really get why it was so hard for you to do at the time. Once I’d have told you he’s crazy and you should stay as far away from him as you could, but not now. You’ll take care of him, right? Don’t let anybody hurt him, Yoh. And….well….welcome to the fucked up family I guess!”

Yoh blinks in surprise as Takaba piles into the car after he has hugged and kissed Feilong (with lots of tongue because Aki may be happy for Fei and Yoh but he’s still pretty possessive for such a scrawny little guy who doesn’t even OWN a gun). Asami chuckles at him and turns to look at both of them. Feilong lifts his chin a little and meets Asami’s eyes without fear. He’s aware he’s placed himself just ever so slightly in front of Yoh, planting himself between what’s his to protect and the only thing that can keep them apart. Asami smiles at him.

“Oh Feilong,” he says quietly, “I’m not going to change my mind, and I’m not going to hurt you later even after I said it was all right. You both deserve this. It can’t change what’s between me and you and Aki. Enhance it maybe, but that’s probably not a conversation for today. Poor Yoh will never stay sane if we bombard him with everything at once. Do remember, beautiful one, that if you break your toys, you can’t play with them anymore.” He chuckles again and leans in, one hand sliding slow and soft through Feilong’s hair to make a sudden, eye-watering fist at the back of his head and haul him in for a mind-numbing kiss. It is tender and vicious and breathtaking and sweet and Feilong is gasping and shuddering when Asami lets go and slides into the car with his characteristic grace, and they are gone.

Feilong pauses a few seconds to make sure his legs aren’t shaking, then he turns to Yoh, who is staring at him with a little bit of a deer-in-the-headlights expression. It isn’t fear or awkwardness though. Oh no. Yoh’s mouth closes and he focuses more sharply on Feilong’s face, tearing his eyes away from the smirking mouth. No, it’s heat.

“Put together a meal,” says Feilong briskly. “Fetch my laptop and organizer, fix us a pitcher of something nice to drink and bring all of it to the master suite’s sitting room within the hour. I’ll be waiting. Have you got all of that?”

“Of course, Sensei,” says Yoh smoothly, although if you know him at all, you can hear the faint catch in his voice, the way it roughens at the edges just a little bit, and can see the question in his eyes. Feilong knows him. “May I ask you something?”

“You may,” says Feilong graciously.

“Is this another test, sensei?”

Feilong’s expressive lips curve slowly into a dirty smile.

“Oh yes,” he purrs, and then he walks past Yoh and back into the house, up the stairs to the master suite, well aware that the smirk on his face is equal parts sadistic glee, anticipation, and nerves. He feels a little bit like he just BOUGHT the candy store. Mine, he thinks, all mine. And then…oh gods, what am I going to do with him?

 

In less than 20 minutes, Yoh taps on the door frame. The door isn’t closed, but everything Feilong has done is deliberate. He’s well aware Yoh has no formal training as a submissive, let alone as a slave, and he has no intention of accusing him of failing in anything he does right now, he’s merely curious to see what Yoh’s natural choices are in behavior when he knows he’s on display.

“Come,” he says absently, standing by the window and looking down on the garden, a fresh appreciation for the koi pond he’d had installed here several year ago. His motivation for having it done at the time had been convoluted. In this house, he had been kissed by a Japanese man and had his body awakened to the hunger a masculine touch could awaken. He had been saved near here by the same mad, who had thrown himself in front of a knife meant for Feilong. Shortly thereafter, Feilong had believed for a long time that the mysterious and beautiful man from Tokyo had betrayed him. The pond had been a reminder for a long time that Fei should never look only at a thing’ pretty surface, for the peace and safety of it were only an illusion. Now, the pond and it’s bright Japanese fish and its trees and chucking water are a much warmer reminder of the same man. He shifts a little and feels the soft silk of his trousers brush the marks still apparent on his skin. Switch marks fade fast, but a few of the cuts are still there. He smiles at his own reflection in the window and revels for a few moments in the memory. Then he turns to face the present.

Yoh stands patiently just inside the door to the sitting room, holding a tray. Feilong’s laptop case is slung over his shoulder. Feilong strolls to the comfortable, heavy arm chair that is the focal point of the seating arrangement in the middle of the room. It is a casual and comfortable room, but one also designed for holding small, intimate meetings (of the secret kind, not the taboo, Feilong hadn’t purchased the property to bring lovers here, though he’s awfully glad he was able to yesterday). He sits gracefully, tossing his hair over one shoulder and raising an eyebrow at Yoh. Yoh’s mouth twitches with a tiny, pleased smile at the realization that it is only the two of them. He sets the tray down on the coffee table, then slides the case off his shoulder. He opens it with quick, efficient movements and hands the laptop to Feilong, open and in the process of booting up. On the smaller table at Feilong’s elbow, he places a PDA and leather-bound organizer. Feilong notices that there are brightly colored self-stick tabs protruding from the organizer’s pages. Yoh turns from him to pick up the tall, slender glass pitcher, from which protrudes an elegant blown-glass rod for stirring. Inside, sliced fruit floats in a chilled red liquid that smells a little like red wine.

“What have you brought me, Yoh?” he asks curiously. It’s pretty. Beads of condensation slide lazily down the surface of the pitcher. Feilong can see oranges, limes, pineapple, raspberries and strawberries floating and swirling gently inside the beverage. It smells delicious. Yoh picks up a frosted glass, tall and slender and elegant, almost like a large champagne flute but without the stem.

“This is sangria, Sensei,” says Yoh, filling the glass. He kneels smoothly at Feilong’s elbow and holds the glass up for him to take. “It is a blend of one of Asami-sama’s merlots, a splash of orange and lemon juice, sugar, and sliced fruit. I hope you find it to your liking.”

Feilong accepts the glass with a nod and takes a sip. His eyes close for a moment at the pleasure of the complex blend of tastes. It’s refreshing, the myriad fruit flavors tantalizing as his tongue attempts to identify them all. Is it sweet and pretty and reminds him of summertime and the orchards at his mother’s house in the country. He feels his throat tighten with silly sentiment, that Yoh could so easily concoct something ideally suited to Feilong’s tastes on such short notice.

“It’s very good, Yoh. I’m going to enjoy this one slowly. You’ll join me for a drink when we eat.”

“Yes, Sensei. I thought you might like to go over the items I’ve marked in your planner and check your schedule for a few minutes while I finish supper. I know you’ve never been one to allow others to manage all your affairs.” He bows his head slightly, then turns and leaves the room on silent feet. Feilong smiles musingly after him. No, definitely no training, and that’s fine with him. Yoh’s instincts are to serve beautifully, but he’s nothing like a door mat. It doesn’t occur to him to ask for permission to leave Feilong’s presence when he has a job to do. His personality would conclude that the correct way to be of service is to DO THE JOB and not waste time standing (or kneeling) about waiting to be acknowledged and allowed to go. Feilong has stood for many years on tradition, respect, ceremony and insisting on the proper deference being shown him. In retrospect, he finds it incredible one of his bodyguards didn’t strangle him. Asami insists on none of those things, and  yet quite often it is hurled at his feet in gratitude or honesty or (well, the man is a crime lord after all) terror. Often Asami’s rivals find his LACK of insistence on deference to be frightening, thinking it’s some kind of a trap, so they go overboard offering it to him anyway.

Feilong doesn’t want things to be stupid and fucked up with himself and Yoh. He thinks perhaps accepting what Yoh has or is willing to offer him at this point is perfectly okay with him. The man has already declared his feelings and his belonging to Feilong, and those right there are pretty damned huge on their own. It would be tedious to constantly have to pay attention to whether Yoh’s head is lower than his own all the time, or whether he’s waiting for permission to eat to go to the bathroom or speak or take a shower. Tiresome, when what Feilong needs Yoh to be most of the time is as efficient and deadly as he has always been. You can’t shackle your bodyguard and personal assistant to you with chains both literal and mental AND expect them to remain good at their job. He smiles, and takes another sip of this delightful drink. He’s heard of it before, something Spanish, he thinks, but never tasted it. He’s always considered most Spaniards to be crass and uncivilized and loud and rude and boorish. Of course, Feilong considers a great many foreigners to be all of those things. And also disturbingly hairy! Feh.

Because there are indeed issues he should address and business to run, he opens his organizer and clicks on his calendar to make note of what needs handled right away and what can wait until later in the week and what he can delegate. The delegating list is pretty short. There are not many people Feilong trusts enough to handle his business interests. One of them does happen to be down there in the kitchen right now though, and it makes him realize how much he actually has missed Yoh after he chased him off in disgrace. The aspects of running his myriad companies that have become miserable tedium of late suddenly make sense to him. They were the things he had Yoh to help him with, and his irritation with them arose from the man’s loss. Perhaps the pleasure in a job well done will come back now, and perhaps building those exit strategies will be a little easier to handle as well.

By the time he hears the quiet rattle of a cart in the hallway, Feilong realizes that he’s actually quite hungry, and the smells coming from the dishes Yoh’s bringing in are heavenly. He looks up from his planner and his smile widens. Yoh wheels in a serving cart the likes of which one sees being used by room service in fancier hotels. He has no idea where the man has procured it or when, and he doesn’t care. It’s fun! There are covered platters and bowls, and a short stack of plates and silverware. Feilong remembers how much fun it was to feed his new toy from his own fingers, but they need to talk as well as handle some business, so he indicates that Yoh should sit on the actual furniture and join him for his meal. Yoh does, but he serves Feilong first. It’s the sort of meal Feilong enjoys the most, a wide variety of small dishes that can be sampled and tasted as desired, not absurd amounts of some main course he’s stuck with if he doesn’t enjoy it. There are crispy little wontons full of vegetables and shrimp, and the sauce for dipping them is spicy with chilies but not so much so that the sweetness underneath can’t be tasted as well. There are rice noodles with quickly stir-fried vegetables so crispy they might have come straight from the fields, and a light soup with mushrooms and tofu and leeks. There are tiger prawns in spicy sauce, flash-fried and crispy and so light they almost melt in his mouth. Feilong moans softly when he bites into the shrimp, which is one of his favorite foods.

“Does it please you, sensei?” asks Yoh softly. Feilong looks at him.

“Have you tasted this yet?”

“No, sensei,” says Yoh, looking a little embarrassed. Grinning a little, Feilong spears a bite of shrimp with his fork (contrary to what westerners seem to think, not everybody in Asia uses chopsticks all the time. They’re terribly inefficient for the most part, and are peasant implements besides). He holds it out to Yoh, who looks a little flustered. He bites his lip in confusion, which is charming and makes Feilong want to lean over there and do it for him. He leans forward obediently though, and opens his mouth to carefully take the proffered bite of food from Feilong’s fork. Feilong watches his lips close over the morsel, feels the tiny drag of them tugging gently, vibrating faintly up the stem of the fork and in his fingertips. Yoh’s eyes drift closed as he takes what Feilong offers him, a soft sigh escaping him. It’s frankly one of the most erotic things he has ever seen. Yoh sits back and opens his eyes, staring straight at Feilong’s face while he chews slowly, the tip of his tongue sweeping a tiny dab of sauce off his bottom lip before he swallows.

“Thank you, Sensei,” he whispers. “It’s very good.”

“Apparently,” murmurs Feilong with a smile, “I’ve recently acquired rather a good chef.”

Yoh looks down at his lap and flushes a little, but he’s smiling.

They eat, and drink the delicious sangria, and talk about business while they’re doing so.

“Yoh,” he says casually as they sit discussing the priorities attached to various requests for meetings and upcoming appointments and shipments and such, “how many days do you think we could feasibly clear from this calendar before I absolutely have to show my face at the compound again?”

Yoh frowns and nibbles on the end of his pencil, something he has always done but which Feilong hasn’t found fascinating until now.

“I wouldn’t say more than two, Sensei. We can handle several of the things on this list via cell phone since they’re people you know and minor enough to stand the insult of not being seen face to face. Have I ever mentioned that some of you Chinese people and your traditions and protocols are pretty annoying to try to work with?”

Feilong snorts back a laugh and tries to look severe, but it’s not terribly successful.

“Anyway, the meeting with Yan and the dye suppliers can’t be pushed back, and that’s Friday morning. The video conference with Saudi Arabia has to happen at the compound where we have all the equipment for it, and that’s also on Friday. We can arrange these three orders,” he points at the list, “via cell from here, they’re not enemies and since we’ll be dealing with their office managers, they’re not going to be tracing the calls. To my knowledge, they don’t use that kind of equipment anyway, they have no need for it. You can reschedule your cousin Ang for Friday without offending him IF we convince him that we’ve got something very secret and exciting going on here...well, wherever he thinks we are, at any rate. And as he’s, I beg your pardon, Sensei, but a moron, that won’t be difficult to do.”

“I’ll tell him I’m arranging the buyout of majority shares in Asami’s Osaka arm of ToshiCorp. He’ll drool.”

“Are you?”

“Asami already sold it to me, but nobody knows about it yet. So then, until Friday hm?”

“With a little finesse, yes Sensei,” says Yoh, taking a few notes on what he’s going to need to do to make this happen.

“Make it so, my lovely boy. I want more than one night to explore you.” He gets up from his chair and takes a step closer to where Yoh sits, pencil forgotten in his hand, staring up wide-eyed and shocked at Feilong, his lips parted. “To touch you.” Another step, and Yoh sucks in his breath sharply, his pupils expanding in his dark eyes. “Taste you.” Feilong stops in front of the chair where Yoh is perched, now looking tense and a little frightened and terribly, terribly aroused. He falls gracefully to his knees, not out of any show of subservience, but to simply get closer to the man trembling below him. His hands grasp Yoh’s where they sit, tense, on the arms of the chair. Pressing them into the upholstery, Feilong leans closer, staring right into Yoh’s eyes. “To take you, Yoh.” With that, his hand flashes out with the kind of speed only men like him with years of martial arts and weapons training can manage, and grabs his nervous bodyguard by the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the slightly shaggy hair brushing his collar, and yanks him towards Feilong. Their mouths don’t so much touch as they collide, and Yoh’s body goes pliant almost instantly. It’s funny to him in a lot of ways, but Feilong thinks to himself that when he asked Yoh if he’d done this before and Yoh said he hadn’t, he thinks Yoh meant he hasn’t  done ANY of this. His kiss is as passionate as Feilong could wish, and yet it is hesitant, somehow self-conscious. Feilong wants to do EVERYthing with him, all at once, and it makes him seriously question just how patient he’s going to be able to be. He pulls back a little, breathing heavily, and presses his forehead to Yoh’s.

“I’m going to ask you now, while I’m still sane enough to accept a negative answer,” he says hoarsely, “because what you’re offering me, and being… _gods…_ being your first? That’s so damned enticing to me, Yoh. If you don’t want to, or even if you’re just not ready, please say so. I won’t…I won’t do this unless you’re sure you want it. I’m not going to be that man. Not anymore, and especially not with you. I won’t be angry, I swear it to you. It’s all right if you need time.”

“Wha…” Yoh’s voice is blurry and indistinct. “Ah…what? No! Oh shit…please don’t stop. I want…Sensei, I _want_ this. You. And now. Oh yes, please now.”

“Yesterday you said you were afraid,” presses Feilong.

“I am,” says Yoh simply. “But you’ll recall please that none of the reasons had anything to do with not wanting to! Have you never wanted something you were also afraid of, Sensei?” he asks curiously. Feilong throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh my. What do you think, Yoh? You just helped his bodyguard load his luggage into his car and drive away!”

“How justifiable were your fears about him, Sensei?” asks Yoh curiously. Feilong can tell he really wants to know. Fortunately, the answer might help a little bit.

“Not at all justifiable,” he says warmly, smiling at Yoh and kissing him again, softly. “I wasn’t terribly afraid of the pain, even though I had never bottomed before and he’s not small. I like pain too much for that to have been much of a concern for me. It did hurt me, but he meant it to at the time. Your first time with me will have nothing in common with my first time with Asami. As to being too inexperienced, or embarrassing myself, yes, I did think about those. I was doing something new, something I had wanted for seven years. That’s a lot of time. I was afraid of being rejected. Used and tossed away. None of those things are happening, and I’ve realized too that it doesn’t matter. I’ll want him anyway, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting like that. It’s something of a win in itself that I can simply desire a person, not because of what use they might be to me or because of some advantage I see in it. It is the same with you, in a way. I don’t have any need to express desire for you, Yoh. You’ve already made it clear that you will continue to serve me as you always have whether there is anything intimate between us or not. I won’t gain or lose anything by taking you as my lover…and my property. I’m going to. But it’s only because I want to. And oh…I very much want to.”

“As do I, Sensei,” says Yoh. Feilong stands smoothly and takes Yoh’s hand.

“Come to bed with me, pet. Not because I order it…that will come later…but because we both wish it. Will you let me?”

“Ohh,” breathes the other man on a sigh. “Oh yes.”

Feilong tugs him gently to his feet and leads him through the double doors connecting the sitting room to the bedroom. At the side of the big king-sized bed with its red and gilt brocaded silk spread, he turns and kisses Yoh again, hungrier this time, laying claim to his lips and plundering inside his mouth where the spices from their dinner linger and the fruit from the wine whispers. They both groan softly when Feilong reaches down and grasps Yoh by the hips, pulling him closer, so that their bodies are pressed together and they’re both hard in their tailored black slacks and when their erections bump against each other, blindly seeking and hungry, they both make small needful sounds into one another’s eager mouths. Feilong hasn’t felt this way since…he pauses for a moment, though he doesn’t stop kissing Yoh. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way. His attraction for other men was something he hid. The only way he has expressed it, so that his few guards know about it, is as a predator. One who takes, who uses his enemies’ and victims’ bodies against them, merely because he can. In being taken by Asami the first time, there had been justice. For Akihito. And, though he has not said so to Asami, for the young man who had been the first, the son of a rival who refused to give in to Baishe’s demands. They had kidnapped the boy, all of sixteen years old, and Feilong had used him in front of his father’s horrified eyes. His second time with Asami had been gorgeous. Slow and simple and so, so good. But Feilong is a violent man, as is his sensei, and so more often than not between them it is perfect and hot and fucking rough. He can’t lie to himself, he wants that with this man too. Wants to bend him over and plow into him while under him, Yoh yelps and whines and begs. But he also wants it to be because the man wants to. And that means his first time can’t be that way, can’t include most of the things Feilong’s used to.

“Yoh,” he whispers.

“Mhmm,” mumurs Yoh, not willing to stop the kissing. The kissing is good, his mouth seems to say, keep doing that. Feilong smiles and does so, but between the kisses he tries to make his point.

“Yoh….mm…listen to me, all…..haaah…all right? I’m going to…hnn…go as slow as I can. Promise me…no, stop it, it’s too good kissing you, listen to me! You have to promise to tell me if I’m hurting you! I’m not going to be able to tell, Yoh. Do you hear me? I don’t….ohhh you’re doing it again….I don’t know how to DO this.”

“Yes, Sensei,” mutters Yoh into his mouth, his quick hands sliding under Feilong’s scarlet silk tunic. His hands are warm and they tremble a little on the hard muscles of Feilong’s belly and Feilong groans at the contrast between need and innocence.

“Are you listening to me?” he growls softly. Yoh’s hands still.

“Yes, Sensei,” he gasps, “If it hurts I’m to tell you. I promise. Sensei?”

“Hm?”

“It doesn’t hurt!”

Well. Feilong bursts out laughing. He lays his forehead on Yoh’s shoulder and laughs until he can hardly breathe. Yoh, unsure of whether he’s being laughed AT or WITH, takes a little longer to fall victim to the hilarity, but at last they’re clutching one another and laughing like loons and Feilong feels about seventeen again like he did the first time he touched someone he just liked (even though that time it had been a girl). Not the nerves or uncertainty or the “am I doing this right,” part of it, which he was feeling before (and probably will again) but the sense of oh wow I really like this person and oh WOW they’re letting me touch them and I don’t have to stop and oh…oh ok, let’s not think about what’s under all those clothes or so help me I’m gonna come in my pants and oh…it’s perfect. And mine. (Okay, he’s added that last word to this fantasy in more recent years). So what. Perks of being the boss. They sort of collapse sideways onto the bed and the laughter slowly dies down to fizzing snickers, which threaten to explode into helpless lunacy every time they make eye contact. It is perhaps one of the strangest preludes to a sexual encounter that Feilong has ever had, but he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. After all, now they are on the bed, face to face, and he can keep kissing Yoh while he slowly loosens the man’s tie. He doesn’t toss it aside. It would be unfair, after all, to keep Yoh entirely ignorant of what he’s letting himself in for, even his first time. It’s not as if he has to hurt the man to show him who he belongs to. Is it strange to feel humbly grateful to one lover while disrobing another? Perhaps, but he feels it anyway. “Thank you, Asami-sensei, that you showed me how to touch and be touched without it always having to be a contest! And thank you, Ototo, for showing me that tenderness is not a weakness.”

After that his mind is only for Yoh, and that under the buttons of his shirt, he is fit and toned and scarred. His is a warrior’s body, and it pleases Feilong very much. He’s had his fill of hothouse flowers. They never cease to bore him. This is more like it. He spends time tracing every scar as he uncovers them. Yoh tries to push him away, but he growls warningly and the other man subsides, flushing and discomfited.

“Do not be ashamed of your scars, my lovely one,” he murmurs as he mouths a rather ropey, rubbery knot under Yoh’s right nipple that can’t be anything but a gunshot wound.  “I like them. They make you much more interesting to me than if you had none. I know they’re part of the shaping of you, and you’re so very worth knowing. You are more attractive to me with them than you would be without them.”

Yoh subsides at last and Feilong spends several more minutes mapping his skin and the paths and divots left on it by all his injuries.

“How many of these did you acquire in my service?” he mutters.

“Ah…all of them, Sensei,” gasps Yoh. Feilong smiles and thumbs open the top button of Yoh’s pants. Yoh’s answer is to slide Feilong’s tunic over his shoulders and down his arms to let it puddle behind him on the bed. The zipper of the bodyguard’s fly is next, one tooth at a time, while Feilong watches his face and smiles lasciviously at the impatience, nerves, desire and fear clashing and washing over Yoh’s face. He grabs Yoh’s wrist when his hands would try to return the favor with Feilong’s pants.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides softly. “You just lie there like a good boy and do as you’re told, my wanju, and enjoy it.” Fortunately Yoh doesn’t seem to object to being called a toy, although this may be chalked up to the fact that now Feilong has his pants off and is toying with the snug elastic waistband of his dark grey boxer briefs, cruelly ignoring the very obvious erection straining the fabric. “My,” he murmurs with a very dirty grin, “you’ve been keeping secrets, Yoh.”

“It’s….AH!...always been there for you to….hngh….” gasps Yoh, writhing when Feilong leans down and breathes warmly on his cock, through the soft cotton of his underwear. He takes in the signs, the spreading, dark stain of wet precome on the front of the fabric, the fine trembling in all of Yoh’s limbs, his fingers clutching at the bedspread and heels digging into the mattress, the white teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Yoh is not just a man in the throes of desire. Feilong cups his balls tenderly and sucks in his own breath. How heady, to be wanted so badly that his new toy is about to come just from having his clothes taken off.

“Yoh,” he whispers gently. “I’m going to make you come for me now. Don’t worry, it’s only the beginning, and you’re not going to be disappointing me. I want to take my time with you, and this…my poor boy…this looks painful.” Yoh’s only response is a strangled groan as Feilong slips his underwear down his hips and his cock is freed. It really is quite nice, thinks Feilong, long and just thick enough and a deep, ducky rose with the flush of his desire. Feilong’s fist closes gently around it and Yoh cries out in shock, hips bucking unconsciously. Feilong considers making Yoh show him how he touches himself while he thinks of being taken by him, but decides that’s better done at a time when this is not so new, or so frantic. With a smile that borders on tender, he slowly and firmly jacks Yoh off. He can tell if he just went at him, fast and dirty, the man would be coming in seconds, but he also thinks Yoh’s pride would take a bit of a hit on that one, so he makes it nice and slow, but even so, Yoh is panting and shuddering in under a minute, whispering curses in Japanese in less than two, and then arching his body, head thrown back as he shouts and his cock jerks and spasms in Feilong’s hand and his seed spurts out over Feilong’s hand and Yoh’s belly. His face is red, both from the exertion and embarrassment.

“Yoh,” he whispers, and he cannot help it that he’s grinning like a schoolboy with a dirty secret, “I’m not sure I’ve ever been so flattered.” He lifts his hand to his mouth and like a cat, licks the other man’s come off his fingers. Yoh’s eyes are wide and startled by this. He nearly looks horrified.

“Sensei what are you….ungh,” he moans when the same fingers swirl through the white fluid pooling in the concavity of his stomach. “I….flattered?”

“It’s rather a heady feeling, to be wanted so much,” confesses Feilong, and he’s not just saying it to make Yoh feel better. He IS flattered, and aroused, and a little bit staggered by the responsibility. Yoh turns his face away, still blushing. “Oh don’t be tiresome. I mean it. The first time I was with a woman, I was 14 years old, and I was so terrified and excited I came in my underwear before she finished getting my pants off. I’ve done the same with Asami and Akihito, just from rolling around fully clothed and that bastard’s incredible voice in my head telling us what he’s going to do. This way, you’ll last longer when it’s time for the main event, my pet.”

Okay, so the thing about the woman is a total lie, but he doesn’t want to spend any more time getting Yoh past this silly ego problem than he has to. The one about Asami is true though. He hopes it’s not the wrong thing to say. It isn’t, apparently.

“He has? I mean, you did?”

“Mm,” agrees Feilong, carefully cleaning the mess off of Yoh’s flat, muscled belly, looking up at him out of the corners of his eyes with a sly smile. “It is something about the giving of oneself to another, I think, that you grant them the ability to affect you so. Men in our lives…it is something we must give, is it not? We are too controlled, too self-contained, too on guard all of the time to be so abandoned unless we will it. It’s a great gift, yes? To trust enough to let go of such control? I have found it incredibly freeing, and my friend, the pleasure is so much more intense than any I have felt before. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, that you allow my touch to rouse you to such heights. I like it. No. Yoh…I love it. And,” he ducks his head and peeks back again through his hair, because he knows it’s fetching, “I’m going to have so much fun wringing every drop of lust I can rip from your body, pretty toy, and you’re going to love it and hate it and beg me to stop and to NEVER, sometimes all at once. It’s going to be fantastic. In fact,” he purses his lips a little and leans down to kiss Yoh lightly on the quivering muscles just under his belly button, “I think I’ll start now.”

With this, he rolls off the bed and gathers a few things, aware of Yoh’s eyes watching him full of equal parts hunger and trepidation. He sits back down and dumps them on the bed at his side. Yoh’s eyes widen again as he takes in the bottle of lubricant, the blindfold, his own dark necktie, a sharp knife, a cigarette lighter, and a cock ring.

“Um…sensei?” he asks in a voice that only quavers a little bit. Feilong laughs, because Yoh’s so utterly a babe in the woods when it comes to sex with another man that it’s next to impossible not to mess with him just a little bit. He smiles, which he seems to be doing rather a lot of, and stands up again, with the lighter in his hand.

“Relax,” he says over his shoulder as he lights the first of the dozen or so candles that artfully decorate the bedroom. “Neither the fire or the candles are for you. I just don’t see any reason not to enjoy their ambiance. I have rarely stayed in this place when it was only to enjoy it, although I went to a lot of expense to decorate it for such purposes. These have a very nice scent, and I do enjoy the way candlelight looks on bare skin. What do you think?” The last one lit, he turns off the light and spins gracefully to face the bed and his prospective lover. He thumbs open his pants and lets them drop to the ground to illustrate his point. He’s showboating a little, and knows it, but the admiring look on Yoh’s face says he does not mind.

“I think…” whispers Yoh, “Feilong-sensei, I think you are beautiful.”

Feilong bows his head with a tiny smirk in recognition, knowing perfectly well that the candles’ warm golden glow set off his skin like he is made of burnished alabaster which burns with some inner light and that the shadows cast by the planes of muscle on his body make the light dance on him when he moves, and that the darkness of his hair and eyes are as shadows come to life. It doesn’t do Yoh any harm either, his body lean and hard with muscle and scarred with danger is mysterious and lovely to Feilong as he saunters back to the bed, looking his fill.

“This,” he says softly, picking up the knife,” is only as a safety precaution. If I decide to tie your hands with the tie to see how you handle it, or if you are not a good boy who does as he’s told, then if I need to free you quickly, I won’t have to stop to fiddle with a knot.” He sets the knife on the bedside table. “This,” he says picking up the blindfold, “Is probably just for looks this time, because I want to see the look in your eyes while I do everything to you. All of it. But if you felt it would help you be less nervous, I’d let you wear it. Some people find that not being able to see makes it easier.”

“I….if I have a choice, Sensei, I would ask you not to use it.”

“You have a choice, Yoh. I know that…” Feilong bows his head for a  moment, then looks back at his companion. “You have seen me act without honor,” he says softly, painfully. “You have even looked me in the eye and told me what you thought of it. Does it help, Yoh, that it is what you said that helped change the way I was doing things? There were other factors, but that was part of it. I am not saying the day will never come that I use sex as a weapon again, but I do give you my word it will not be against the weak or helpless. And I will not use it so against you, not ever. Do you know what a safeword is?”

“I have heard the term,” says Yoh carefully.

“We can choose something that works for you later, but for now, because to be honest I am too impatient to wait so long, if anything happens you cannot bear, say red. I’ll stop. Understand? Well,” he says ruefully, “Probably up until the point I am inside you. I’d try, but by then I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“Y…yes, Sensei,” says Yoh.

“The necktie and lube are probably self-explanatory.”

“Are…are you going to tie me up?” asks Yoh breathlessly. He’s not hard again yet, but when he asks it, his hips roll just a tiny bit, unconsciously. How remarkable.

“You know, I believe that I am. I’m going to touch you, in all kinds of interesting places, and I’m going to take a positively obscene amount of time to make your body ready for mine, and you’re going to be frantic before I’m done. Yes, I think I like the idea of you having to just lie there and take it. Give me your wrists.” He snaps out the last sentence, just to see how Yoh will react. It sends a hard bolt of desire grinding into Feilong’s guts that Yoh sucks in a shuddering breath and holds up his hands, palms up, wrists  together, eyes averted, and his hands are steady as a rock. Feilong binds them together swiftly in a figure eight that will not be easy for Yoh to escape if he wanted to, and then ties the loose end of the silk to the headboard. Yoh closes his eyes and pulls against the tie, wrists twisting, and Feilong is glad he has tied it securely, because Yoh is actually testing it. When he finds the restraint resistant to his tugging, he moans softly and collapses against the pillow, breathing harshly and looking up at Feilong with hungry eyes. Oh yes, bondage works very well indeed for Yoh. Feilong’s lips curve as he leans down to capture that mouth again, laying himself alongside Yoh’s body and kissing him for a very long time. At last he notices that Yoh is trembling again and lifts his head to see that apparently the man has the libido of a teenaged boy, because his cock is more than half-hard again. He breaks off the kiss and moves, skimming his lips down Yoh’s jaw to his throat, the tip of his tongue tasting the salt of skin, his teeth nipping gently. Yoh gasps and arches his body when Feilong bites him. Feilong growls softly in satisfaction and does it some more, a little harder.

“AH,” cries Yoh, “Sensei!”

Feilong moves a bit to purr into his ear, his tongue darting out to tickle the tender pale shell, his lips and teeth nibbling and suckling the earlobe.

“Do you like that, little wanju? When I bite you? Shall I do it harder?”

“Ohh…yes, Sensei!”

So he does, biting down slowly and carefully on Yoh’s throat just above his shoulder until he is yanking hard against the tie binding him to the headboard and practically shouting with need.

“How nice,” breathes Feilong once he stops. “So responsive. You’re perfect. I could eat you up,  every inch of you. You sound so desperate, Yoh. You’re going to BE desperate before I’m done.” Yoh makes a sound that could be a whimper. Feilong kisses and nips his way down Yoh’s throat to the expanse of his chest. His dark brown nipples are hardened already to two sharp little points. Some men are not terribly sensitive here. Feilong isn’t terribly, except under exactly the right circumstances, and neither is Asami, but Akihito can practically come in his pants just from having his nipples played with. Yoh, as it turns out, is also terribly sensitive. When Feilong’s warm mouth closes over one tiny, hard nub, he shouts in shock and his upper body comes off the bed. Gleefully, Feilong spends close to ten minutes suckling and nipping and biting those tender little buds. Yoh is trembling and sweating when he stops, his voice ragged and his hips arching towards Feilong’s body.

Snagging the bottle of lube, Feilong has pity on the man’s aching nipples at last and moves farther down. Ruthlessly, he shoves Yoh’s legs apart quite roughly, which only makes Yoh moan louder. With a grin like a cat getting into the cream someone has left out by accident, he leans down and laps at the slit of Yoh’s cock where it is shiny with precome, little darting kitten licks that make Yoh groan and raise his hips in entreaty.

“Oh no,” smiles Feilong cruelly. “You’ve already come once, you greedy thing, you don’t get to do it again until I’m ready for it. That’s what that last thing is for, you know. If you can’t control yourself, I’m going to snap that cock ring onto you and you won’t be able to come until I take it off. Is that what you need, Yoh? Or can you be a good boy for me?”

Yoh subsides, panting roughly.

“I can…hngh…control it, Sensei,” he grits out between his teeth. And he does, mostly, while Feilong strokes and teases and touches his balls and the shaft and head of his hard cock and the soft skin on the insides of his thighs. He sighs and gasps and whimpers and curses softly, but he remains mostly still, which Feilong finds impressive under the circumstances.

“You could always close your eyes and pretend I’m just a woman, then maybe this wouldn’t be so…overwhelming for you,” he says coyly. Yoh’s expression goes shuttered and unhappy. “You have been with a woman, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Sensei,” says Yoh tightly, “on numerous occasions. For the past seven years, I have closed my eyes on every occasion in which I was intimate. I won’t close them now, not unless you order it.” Feilong smiles gently.

“What did you think about then, Yoh, when you closed your eyes?”

“You,” whispers his bodyguard.

“How lovely,” Feilong whispers back. At his side, he has thumbed open the cap of the bottle of lubricant and lets it drizzle slow and cool and slick onto his fingers. He rubs them together for a few moments to warm it, and then, without warning, his slips his fingertips between Yoh’s cheeks where his hips roll and arch under the fingers teasing his erection. He sucks in his breath and goes abruptly very still, tension singing through his muscles.

“Hahh,” he pants, trembling.

“Shh,” murmurs Feilong, finding the tight, tiny pucker of his untried hole and feathering his fingertip over it in a whisper of a caress. “Relax. This isn’t going to hurt.” Yoh moans and Feilong watches him force his body to relax. So obedient. He doesn’t take advantage of the release of all that tension yet though, he just keeps stroking and tickling at Yoh’s small, whorled entrance, his fingers slipping over the sensitive bud of nerve endings. Yoh’s eyes are wide and frightened at first, but Feilong knows this feels very good, and in the kind of way that makes you know it’s not enough, that you must have more, that it’s only the prelude to the way you need it to feel. Sure enough, after a few minutes, the hips arch again and Yoh’s body instinctively tries to press against Feilong’s teasing fingers. He waits until Yoh’s breath is harsh and his teeth worry at his bottom lip in frustration, and then he allows the tip of his finger to dip just inside the little pucker. Yoh’s breath explodes from him in a gasp. Feilong grins and pulls it back out. He adds a little more lube and repeats his process until Yoh’s wrists are twisting and yanking against the silk tie and his feet are digging into the mattress while he rolls his hip entreatingly towards Feilong’s seeking finger.

“Please, Sensei,” gasps Yoh at last.

“Such a good boy,” purrs Feilong, and slides his finger inside Yoh’s body up to the knuckle in one achingly slow push. Yoh cries out and shudders.

“Hurts?” asks Feilong, holding his hand very still.

“Oh, ah, ah…no!” whines Yoh, quivering. Feilong stares, enraptured, at his face, and crooks his finger, seeking. Ah yes, there it is. He rubs softly over the small bump inside, pressing just a little, twisting his finger and stroking, teasing, lovingly caressing the hard, raised spot that is Yoh’s prostate gland. Yoh nearly screams in shock and his body lifts off the bed.

“There we go, that’s it,” breathes Feilong.

“Hngh!” says Yoh mindlessly, pushing hard against Feilong’s finger. He yelps and shivers when Feilong carefully and painstakingly adds a second finger. They both freeze, panting and staring at each other, Feilong searching for signs of pain on Yoh’s face while Yoh only gazes at him with eyes half-blind with lust and awe at the sensations Feilong is wringing from his body. Feilong’s cock is so hard he thinks he could weep from the ache, but he forces himself to ignore it. This is the point where he would lose patience with prep work even on voluntary lovers and take what is his by right, but he’s not going to do that this time. The second finger joins the first in stimulating Yoh’s prostate, and between rubs and strokes, he pulls both fingers out a little and pumps them back in. Yoh’s incredibly tight, almost moreso than anyone else Feilong has ever been with. It’s going to feel incredible, penetrating such unbearably snug confines, but he needs it to feel incredible to Yoh as well. The tight muscle clenching and grasping convulsively at his fingers holds on so hard it grinds the bones of Feilong’s fingers together. He whispers softly to Yoh and carefully scissors them apart just a little.

“Hnn,” gasps the man beneath him, screwing his eyes closed and turning his head away, breathing heavily through his open mouth, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Feilong considers him. He likes this, a lot, looking down at Yoh’s face and watching him come unglued, but he thinks maybe it’s just a little bit too raw and exposed for Yoh to handle all at once.

“Do you need me to not look at you like this?” he asks softly. Yoh opens one eye a crack and peers up at Feilong, as though trying to ascertain if he’s supposed to answer in a certain way. When all he sees is calm concern, he sighs and relaxes at little.

“I…ohhh…I th…think it might b…be easier. Yes…Sensei,” he says breathlessly.

“That’s all right,” says Feilong with a grin, “It’s not a hardship to get an eyeful of the ass I’m going to be fucking pretty soon.” Yoh moans, and Feilong chuckles a little as he pulls his fingers out and helps Yoh turn over on his stomach. The view from here is as spectacular in its own way as the front. The muscles of Yoh’s back are defined and powerful, the long line of his spine deeply grooved and elegant.  There is a small tattoo between his shoulder blades, just below the base of his neck. Feilong knows he must have gotten it recently, as Yoh didn’t have it the last time he saw him shirtless, which was the day Yoh asked Feilong to kill him. There is no question in Feilong’s mind that the design is for him alone. It is the Baishe dragon, but instead of the tong’s green and gold, the dragon is red and black, Feilong’s personal favorite colors.  He touches it and smiles softly to himself.

“Yoh….”

“I hope it doesn’t offend you, Sensei,” says Yoh, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.” He runs his finger down the groove of Yoh’s spine to the gentle swell of his ass. It is indeed a very fine ass, and Feilong finds himself wanting to bite it, but he refrains. The trim waist and tight buttocks make him envision what it will be like to take him; his hands on those hips, his body pressing firmly against that delectable ass on every downstroke, and the thought of it makes him bite his lip and sigh a little. He situates himself alongside Yoh’s body, on his side, left forearm on the warm upper back beneath him, leaning on it, free hand tracing the contours of the rounded buttocks and crease of Yoh’s ass. His slick fingers dip in again, pressing inside a little harder. Yoh makes a muffled exclamation into the pillows. It sounds a little bit pained, but he lifts his hips at the same time. Because so very much of him wants to roll onto the man and sink into his tight hole right this second, Feilong closes his eyes and wrestles his impatient nature into submission. He isn’t patient because he’s never really had to be, but now that he has been treated with patience (at least sometimes) he is mostly able to admit that he’s something of a spoiled rotten little brat prince. Accustomed to having his way (although he cuts himself a tiny bit of slack on this one, since he’s only been ACTING accustomed to having his way and in reality it’s only been so since he began to rebuild his family’s empire). It is because he knows he CAN do whatever he wants with Yoh that he is able to make himself wait. That, and driving the poor man insane with wanting Feilong is pretty damned appealing.

He fingers Yoh slowly and carefully for what seems like hours to him. It apparently seems like hours to Yoh as well, for the bodyguard is rocking up into Feilong’s two fingers and making small needful sounds after the first, oh, 30 seconds or so, and he doesn’t stop, except to make louder noises when Feilong spreads his fingers a little. After a very long time during which they both struggle with their own composure, Feilong adds more lube and carefully inserts a third finger.

“Hnnn,” says Yoh, his body tensing at the stretch.

“Shh,” murmurs Feilong, “don’t tense up, you’ll only hurt yourself. Relax, breathe. Let me in. There you are, that’s it, so good. You’re so tight, you feel so amazing. I can’t wait to be inside you. Gods, Yoh, you have no idea how good your body feels to me right now.”

“Sensei,” gasps Yoh, “I…ohhh…it feels….ungh….”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! Please, Sensei, I….I want….hah….please…”

“Please what, wansu?” purrs Feilong.

“Oh,” growls Yoh softly, writhing and lifting his hips to bring Feilong’s fingers in deeper, to press him harder against the place inside his body that feels so amazing when it is touched, “oh please do it. Now. I’m ready. I can’t….hahh…can’t wait….nn…do it, please….hnn…do it.”

“Do what?” says Feilong, knowing he’s being a little bit cruel but he’s suddenly dying to hear the words from those lips, finds that he NEEDS to hear them.

“Please, Sensei, please…agh… _fuck me._ ”

Feilong closes his eyes as the shudder rocks him. Almost, he does what Yoh asks, right then. Almost.

“It’s going to hurt a little,” he says softly into Yoh’s ear. “Do you understand that? At first, it’s going to feel like it won’t possibly fit and that you’re being torn open and….well, it’s just going to hurt.”

“I don’t care,” cries Yoh, frantic. “I have waited so long. Ah! I belong to you, Feilong-sama. Please take me. Be with me. Be IN me. Please. Now, please, now.” He is practically sobbing the last words, and Feilong’s self-control is not good enough to resist a plea so sincere (and so flattering). He grabs the bottle of lube and squeezes an inordinate amount of it over his cock, slicking his hand down and back up once to coat it thoroughly. He balances himself on one hand while his other hand guides his dick carefully to press between the tight cheeks under his body. Even after all the time he’s taken, Yoh’s hole feels too tight to allow him inside. With the head of his cock pressed firmly against the resistant small pucker, he closes his eyes and reminds himself to breathe. This is the part where he would grin like a fucking shark and SHOVE his hardness into the tight virgin asshole underneath him and the sickness inside him that knows only conquest and subjugation and the ages-old sense of noblesse oblige that so many of his ilk share, and he knows that part of him would like it. Would enjoy the pained cries, the agony, the tears (if there were any) of the man or boy he would be using this way. He makes himself remember the self-loathing too, and how hard it always was to look at himself in the mirror afterwards. 

This is different. So many things are different now, and he finds that he cannot bear the thought of any of them going back to the way they were. He knows that since he allowed Asami and Akihito to leave his cruise ship those months ago, some have wondered if he were growing soft. These mutterings are the reasons for the secret and careful arrangements he’s been making (with and without Asami’s help. It’s not as if he hasn’t been running a successful empire on his own for years now. He hardly needs his hands held).  All of the changes though, are the reason he sees Yoh’s trembling body underneath his right this moment as a gift, and not as his by right. He rocks his hips gently. This head of his cock presses open the tightly clenched opening just a little bit. By the gods, it’s tight. Yoh gasps, but Feilong takes only that tiny fraction of an inch, then rocks gently again. Slowly, carefully, as though dealing with a frightened animal, he coaxes the other man’s body to open. Yoh’s white-knuckled grip on the bedspread tells him that this is pretty difficult if not outright terrifying for a man like his self-contained, competent, controlled bodyguard. He lays his head against the back of Yoh’s neck and bites his lip.

“We need to try something different,” he chuckles ruefully.

“We…we do?” asks Yoh, sounding confused.

“Mm,” agrees Feilong. “I’m trying too hard not to hurt you, and you’re too tense to allow me not to hurt you.”

“I am sorry, sensei.”

“Oh don’t be tiresome,” says Feilong irritably. “Sex is a two-way street, my dear Yoh. I’m afraid I only have one thing to suggest, however.”

“Do it,” says Yoh firmly. His voice does not waver. Feilong’s eyebrows go up as Yoh voices the very thing he was going to suggest. “Pe…people do this every day…right? And don’t….don’t die from it. We both want this, so…I trust you. Ju…just do it, Sensei. If I ca…can’t adjust to it then…”

Whatever else Yoh may be planning to say is cut off by a strangled howl of pain as Feilong grits his teeth, closes his eyes, and PUSHES himself smoothly into Yoh’s body with one unhesitating thrust. It is not brutal, or meant to harm, and he’s spent a LOT of time trying to make the other man’s body ready, so he offers up a tiny prayer to ancestors he hardly ever bother with that he’s not causing any actual damage, but he seats his cock balls-deep in his nervous lover, just as he had been about to suggest. It doesn’t give Yoh a chance to tense any MORE in anticipation, and Feilong tries to console the recriminating voice in his head by pointing out that this IS exactly what Yoh is asking him to do. Once he is fully sheathed, he holds himself as still as a stone. It is one of the harder things he’s ever chosen to do, because Yoh’s ass is perfect. Tight and warm and soft and the muscles inside him ripple and flex and clench around Feilong’s cock. It feels so fucking good he almost cannot stand it, especially the not moving part. Yoh shudders and sucks in great, heaving breaths as he tries to make himself relax.

“Gods,” he hisses through his teeth. “It hurts.”

Feilong really hopes the powers that be will forgive the part of him that purrs with pleasure when Yoh says that. He may manage to stop being a complete bastard, but he’s never going to be able to stop being a sadomasochistic beast. That thread of pain in Yoh’s voice is sweeter than honey. The fact that he knows now from…well…from checking surreptitiously down to where their bodies are joined and not seeing bright, damning scarlet…that he hasn’t harmed Yoh, lets him forgive himself a little for finding it pretty fucking erotic.

“I know,” he whispers. “Just breathe for me, Yoh. Bear down against me, take deep breaths. Your body will make room. You want this, and I want YOU. You feel so damned good I want to just ravage your tight little ass, but I won’t. Oh. Oh gods, you’re perfect. So good. Relax. Don’t try to fight it. Think of it, Yoh. My cock inside you. Filling you. Owning you. You’re mine now. Mine, and I’m going to fuck you in a minute. How does it feel, little toy? Mine, Yoh. All mine.”

As he speaks, whispering soft and dirty into Yoh’s ears, which are red with pain and embarrassment, Feilong can feel the tiny lessening of tension in Yoh’s body. Yoh shivers and pants a little as Feilong talks to him, and after what seems an eternity, Feilong gets the sign he’s been waiting for. Yoh rocks his hips up against Feilong’s body and the anchor point where they are joined and when Feilong’s cock shifts inside him at the motion, he doesn’t whimper. He _moans_ and it is a sound of want, not pain. Feilong rocks back, just to make sure, and Yoh shivers.

“Ohhh, Sensei,” he breathes.

“Yes?” requests Feilong softly.

“Oh yes,” whispers Yoh. Feilong grins like the very devil himself. Clasping Yoh’s body against his own, he loosens the tie from Yoh’s wrists (the slip knot has not tightened enough to require cutting, but then, Feilong likes to think he knows a thing or two about knots) and rolls them carefully onto their sides. In this position, while he cannot piston himself into Yoh’s body like he’s trying to pound his way out the other side, he can touch much more of his new lover, and he finds this preferable to him at the moment. Pectorals with their sensitive little nipples, rippling abs and muscled hips, arms and throat and arching ribs, tight balls and rigid shaft, all of these parts of Yoh are available to his fingers now, and he touches them all, rocking into Yoh’s body with careful rolling thrusts of his hips. He can angle both their bodies this way so that every press and slide of his heavy cock glides over Yoh’s sweet spot, making his gasp and shiver and whine beautifully. Hearing sounds like these from the throat of one normally so stoic and contained is quite simply intoxicating.

“All right now?” he asks softly, really hoping so, because honestly, his self-restraint can only take so much, and his is strained to the breaking point.

“Hungh,” mutters Yoh, pushing his ass back to meet Feilong’s next thrust.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he says with a slow, delighted grin.

“Yuh,” agrees Yoh, frowning with great concentration and pushing harder. Feeling his response, Feilong feels an answering tingle in his balls and at the base of his spine. He nips Yoh’s shoulder and fucks into him faster, and a little harder. Yoh cries out, but not in pain. Oh definitely not in pain. Grinning triumphantly, Feilong snakes his agile fingers down between Yoh’s legs and wraps them around his erection. Yoh’s cock is slick with precome and positively quivering with eagerness. Feilong hums a little growl of pleasure and works the other man’s erection firmly, thrust and counterthrust to his own body’s rhythm.

“You feel so good,” he whispers. “So tight, so hot. Gods. Love fucking you. I’m going to come soon, Yoh. Not until you let go for me though, my pet. So good. Ungh. So hot, so tight. Come for me, Yoh. Come, because I’m fucking you and it’s so. Damned. Good. You like it ,don’t you? My cock hard in your ass? Hah. Hah. Come on then, give it to me. Come for me, Yoh. _Come.”_

Yoh’s body stiffens and a strangled shout of shocked and agonized pleasure is torn from his body. Inside, his hole  flutters and ripples and then clamps down so hard on Feilong’s cock that his own cry is ripped from him, his fingers digging hard into Yoh’s hips to hold him still while Feilong crushes himself against his bodyguard’s shuddering form, arching into him as deep and hard as he can, the ferocious clamping of the unbearably tight muscle around his cock grabbing Feilong and _yanking_ him over the edge with Yoh, spilling his seed with a startled cry of pleasure, breathless, shuddering and holding onto the body against him like it is his anchor. The hot rush of Yoh’s spunk on his hand is wonderful. The feel of that hard, fearless body shaking as though he will break into pieces is breathtaking, the bright ferocious possessiveness that washes over Feilong with his orgasm is wonderful too, and a little startling. Does Asami feel this too, he wonders? Not just the sense of MINE that is such a heady thing, but also the humbling realization that oh yes, this is mine and be damned to anyone who tries to take it from me? Since Asami has shown himself capable of walking through hellfire to bring Akihito home, Feilong imagines it probably is pretty much the same for him. It’s a little bit like what he feels for Tao, except that of course his protection of the child has nothing to do with what he’s just done with Yoh, and he’ll kill the first person who tries to corrupt that innocence, it is still of a similar family. This is mine. Damn anyone to hell who tries to take it or spoil it.

“Mine,” he whispers, his lips brushing the soft skin behind Yoh’s ear.

“I always have been,” mumbles Yoh softly, his strong hand sliding back to rest on Feilong’s thigh where he is spooned against Yoh’s back, the fingers flexing a little, then relaxing as Yoh sighs in repletion and goes boneless against Feilong’s body. The play or whipcord muscle flexing and then going lax in Yoh’s forearm arm makes Feilong smile.

“Mine,” he thinks, “but you’ll fight right alongside me against anybody who gets in the way, won’t you? I’ll keep you safe, but you’ll keep me safe too.”

“All right?” he asks contentedly.

“Hm,” says Yoh happily, “Do that again.”

“Oh really now?” Feilong raises his head and looks down at Yoh in surprise.

“Yes. Tomorrow,” mutters Yoh, grabbing Feilong’s arm and hauling it around himself, holding Feilong’s hand captive against his chest. To his immense surprise, Feilong doesn’t mind at all.

“All right then,” he purrs, nipping softly at Yoh’s ear, already feeling sleepy and content, “but tomorrow? Tomorrow, my lovely new toy, it’s going to make you scream.”


End file.
